


idiots

by dothemario



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Friends, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Partner Betrayal, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dothemario/pseuds/dothemario
Summary: While Sylvain is on his deathbed (in the dirt), Felix recalls every promise they have ever made to each other. Every last one of them!
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	idiots

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic on ao3 and boy oh boy do i not know how this thing works. either way i just wanted to write a self-indulgent sylvix fic because i just really really didn't want to do my matlab assignment. thematically jumbled and off just like my life..also it's lowkey basic asf but i mean so are these hoes

Do you remember our promise?

-

As Sylvain’s breaths became sparse, the ruby stain grew beyond the hilt of the sword pressed into his stomach. Using whatever life was left inside him, he tenderly wrapped his arms around his killer.

A shaking hand returned its grip on the sword, knuckles white, and pulled it out of Sylvain’s body.

Heaving with sobs, Felix took one last look into Sylvain’s smiling eyes, swung his sword high above his head, and delivered a final blow.

-

  
  


“I win!”

Skidding to a halt, Sylvain whips his head around to take in his competition: Dimitri, red-faced and feet flailing, with Ingrid trailing behind him. But where was Felix?

“Th-thats...not fair…” Dimitri panted, having finally caught up. His breaths gathered in clouds at his lips, bound by the chilly winter air. “You’re older, so your legs are longer!”

“Not my problem!” Sylvain beamed, hands clasped behind his head. “Also, where’s Felix?”

Ingrid’s eyes widened, and her head darted in every direction. She flung her arm out and pointed. “There he is!”

Sylvain bobbed up behind Ingrid, and spotted Felix plopped in the middle of the snowy field, rubbing his knee.

“Felix!” Dimitri darted over, with his friends in tow. “What happened?”

Startled, Felix looked up at his friend, sniffled and quickly rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. 

“Nothing! I’m fine!” he barked. “I just...slipped.” 

When Ingrid drew closer to examine his knee, he jerked his head and looked away.

“Buzz off! I don’t need anyone’s help.” he exclaimed.

Dimitri frowned and started toward Felix, but Ingrid grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him in the direction of their village.

Sylvain watched them trod off, leaving a trail of mud sandwiched in the glittering snow. He sat himself on the ground, sprawled on his back in the snow, and turned to Felix. In response, Felix lolled his head around to glare at his friend, jaw jutted forward in a pout.

“I don’t need you here to make fun of me either. I don’t need any help!”

“Who said I was here for you? I’m just laying in the snow!” Sylvain smirked. Taken aback, Felix’s face flushed, and returned his attention to his scraped knee.

The sun burned white against the gray sky overhead, casting iridescent reflections on the snow, which Sylvain’s starfished body was quickly sinking into. However, being a tuckered-out seven year old, he was too busy dozing away to notice this. It wasn’t long until the walls of the Sylvain-shaped hole caved in, cascading piles of snow over his snoring figure. 

“Sylvain!” Having heard a thumping noise, Felix whipped his head in the direction of his friend, who was nowhere to be found. He jumped to his feet, but was met with sharp pain in his knee, and resorted to crawling. 

Next to Sylvain’s knapsack was a dip in the snow, where Felix last remembered Sylvain to be sitting. Confused, Felix scanned his surroundings until he was interrupted by a muffled snore. Eyes cast downward, he spotted a shock of crimson hair buried beneath him.

It took a few minutes of furious burrowing for Felix to uncover his sleeping pal, who was quickly turning purple. 

“Sylvain, you idiot! Wake up!” Felix’s tiny hands squished Sylvain’s cheeks, then forcefully pried his eyes open.

“Mmmuhrgh...Felix, what are you doing…?” He pushed Felix off his chest with ease, sat up, and yawned. 

“You fell asleep in the snow, dummy! If I hadn’t been here, you would’ve froze to death.” Felix scrambled to his feet and crossed his arms, tapping his finger indignantly.

Sylvain stared up at Felix, bewildered. However, this quickly turned into a bashful smile. “No kidding! Sorry about that, pal!” Sylvain laughed, scratching his neck.

Glaring, Felix sat down next to Sylvain. “You can’t just laugh that off. What if I wasn’t here to dig you out? You could have died!” Felix snapped. Again, Sylvain responded with a laugh, causing Felix to fume.

“It’s not funny!” Felix shoved Sylvain, who fell face-first into the snow. Satisfied, Felix let out a sly giggle, and pulled his friend up to his feet. 

“Felix, you don’t have to worry about that,” Sylvain said, still giggling. “I’m not dying any time soon. There’s too much stuff that I haven’t gotten to do yet! Go to school, fight in battles, get married…”

As Sylvain continued to count off the many things he wanted to accomplish, Felix realized that he had never thought that much about what he wanted to do when he grew up; all he ever wanted was to keep playing with his friends, for as long as he could. But if Sylvain had all of these great ideas for his future, Felix definitely wanted to be a part of it.

“Sylvain!” Felix blurted. “Promise me that you won’t die until I die, so we can have fun together forever!”

Sylvain cut his speech, brought his hand to his chin, and ruminated on Felix’s request for a few seconds. He then grabbed Felix’s hands, with a cheesy grin on his face.

“I promise! You’re gonna be my best friend forever, so don’t you forget either!” 

For the first time all day, Felix’s face broke out into a grin. However, Sylvain didn’t notice, because the two were already dashing back to their village, hand in hand.

-

Surrounded by the usual gaggle of girls, Sylvain’s eyes darted around the room, looking for a distraction. They settled on a dark figure huddled in an armchair, head thumping repeatedly against the nearby wall.

“‘Scuse me, darling,” Sylvain stood and slid through the crowd, making his way to Felix. “Having fun, I can see.”

Felix rolled his eyes, and glanced up at the philanderer. “I hate parties. You know I hate parties.”

“That I do! But it’s about time you learn how to make friends.” Sylvain shoved himself into the little space left in the armchair, causing Felix to squirm further into his corner.

“I don’t want friends. You’re lucky that I even tolerate you.” Felix spat. He stared glumly over the back of the chair, out the doorway of the house, which opened to a balmy summer night. Sylvain stacked his chin on Felix’s head to see what he was gandering at, and upon realization, hopped to his feet.

“Okay, I’ll let you go outside and play. You’re welcome!” Sylvain tugged his friend by the arm.

“Thanks,” Felix drawled sarcastically. Sylvain dragged him out the door.

Sitting against the back of the house, he patted the grass next to him. Felix sighed and obliged, squatting down to sit. The sky was a deep, endless purple, its vastness broken by a spattering of glowing stars.

Silence sat itself comfortably between the boys, but took its leave when Felix decided to speak up.

“Why do you flirt with those girls if you have no intention of dating them?”

Sylvain chuckled, but fell silent when he noticed the absence of a smile on Felix’s face.

“Well, you know as well as anyone that they don’t actually like me. They just like the status I could give them if we dated. The whole thing with my Crest or whatever.” 

At sixteen, Sylvain still didn’t entirely understand what his Crest meant, but it’s all anyone ever talked about. And he was so, _so_ tired of hearing about it; he couldn’t remember the last time a girl asked about anything else, if there ever was an instance of it.

Felix turned to look at him, but Sylvain refused to meet his gaze.

“Come on, you’d have to be an idiot to actually believe that crap.” Sylvain let out a laugh at the brutality of his words. Although they’ve been friends for years, Sylvain, at times, still finds himself shocked at Felix’s bluntness.

“Well, maybe I _am_ an idiot,” Sylvain stretched his arms over his head, and Felix ducked, scowling. “But there doesn’t seem to be anything interesting about me, considering these girls can’t seem to find anything else to talk about other than my heritage.”

Felix scoffed. “Well, let’s see. You’re strong. Caring. Funny. Occasionally clever. Good looking. Not dumb. Passionate…” he trailed off, turning away when he noticed Sylvain staring. “Not to stroke your ego, or anything.”

“Do you actually think all of that, Felix?” Sylvain leaned in, but Felix kept his back to him. His voice was soft, coaxing.

“Don’t get any big ideas, I’m just saying what all those girls probably think about you...” Felix at last turned his head, looking over his shoulder. His ears glowed red. 

This was getting interesting. Sylvain squinted. 

“So that isn’t what _you_ think, Felix? Everything you just said?” He scooted closer.

Whipping himself around to face Sylvain, Felix’s brow furrowed under his disheveled hair.

“S-so what if that’s what I think about you?” He pressed his palms back into the grass, leaning himself away from Sylvain’s face, which was only inches away from his own.

Sylvain smirked; at this point, his mind was on autopilot. If you had asked him what he was doing at this very moment, he wouldn't be able to tell you. 

He brought his hand up and rested it on Felix’s chin, which was trembling. Was this too mean? Had he gone too far? Either way, it didn’t matter, because there was no way he was stopping now. 

“What do you think of me, Felix?”

Unsure of who initiated it, Sylvain found himself kissing his best friend, in the dirt, behind a house. However, the circumstances mattered not, because all he could notice was Felix’s hand gripping his collar a little too tight, Felix’s lips fervently slipping against his own, Felix, Felix, Felix.

When they finally parted, Sylvain’s eyes fluttered open and stared into those in front of him. Time seemed to slow down, but it sped right back up when Felix delivered a sharp punch to Sylvain’s stomach.

“Owch! What the hell was that for?” Sylvain hissed, hunching over. He looked up to find Felix’s tomato red face, still only inches from his.

“Y-you’re asking me? You’re the one who should be explaining themselves right now!” Felix blurted. He pulled away and began pacing, pulling at his hair. “Why in the world would you pull something like that, Sylvain? Goddess, you’ve really done it now...I can’t believe you!”

Felix continued to blubber absentmindedly about how much of an idiot Sylvain was, and the latter couldn’t help but laugh at how cute he found his friend’s frustration. From the blush creeping down to his neck, to the stutters and blips coming from tripped-over words, Felix was a whole spectacle.

“Alright buddy, calm down! I promise I won’t mention this to a single soul. You promise you won’t tell anyone either? Not exactly something I want to explain to Dimitri and Ingrid, or my dad at that.”

Felix stopped trodding about, and met Sylvain’s proposition with a scowl.

“Fine, whatever. As if I’d want anyone to know about this anyways.” With that, he aggressively shouldered past Sylvain and stomped back inside the house.

Leaning back against the wall, Sylvain folded his hands behind his head, and looked up at the night sky. As a romantic rogue, he was more than used to stealing kisses from starstruck girls. But this time, he felt as if this kiss was one stolen from him; he had never shared something as intimate as a kiss with someone as close to him as Felix. Let alone, he had never kissed a boy before either.

Still, he couldn’t imagine feeling the same if he had kissed any of his other friends. As he flipped through these rhetorical make-out sessions in his head, his pulse only quickened when he reached his moment with Felix. 

Why?

Sylvain couldn’t afford to entertain the idea of having a crush on Felix: countless barriers loomed in front of the prospect of a relationship with him. Plus, for all he knew, Felix might never want to see his face again after tonight’s events.

Most of all, it was just absurd. Felix was his friend, and nothing more. The kiss was meant to be a prank, and that is all it was. 

Still, as Sylvain repeated this mantra of defiance in his head, he couldn’t help but notice that the amber moon above perfectly matched the shade of Felix’s eyes.

-

Felix slowly turned the doorknob and peered past the creaking door. Sylvain sat at the foot of his bed. 

“Come in.”

Felix gingerly makes his way over and sits beside him. Sylvain’s eyes stare out the window, but they are glazed, as his mind is elsewhere. Rain buffeted the sloped roof of the Garreg Mach cathedral, barely visible through the mist clouding the glass.

“I’m sorry about Miklan.” Losing a brother wasn’t an unfamiliar tragedy for Felix, and Sylvain knew this.

“He wasn’t my brother, and hadn’t been for a very long time,” Sylvain murmured, hands clasped at his lips. “That’s not the entire reason I’ve been holed up in here. Or why I sent for you.”

Felix felt a pit beginning to swell in his stomach. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever Sylvain was about to tell him. 

“Why am I here?” 

Sylvain stood abruptly, pacing slowly until he reached his vast window. His back was turned to Felix, and it felt like hours until he finally spoke in a low, gravelly tone.

“Felix, I’m engaged.”

Felix’s pounding heart fought with the ringing silence for precedence. His chest was bound tight, allowing only shallow, raspy gasps for air. But that wasn’t a problem. He couldn’t get himself to breathe at all.

Elbows on knees, and head in clammy hands, he searched his racing mind for a viable question, but failed to string words together.

“When?” It was almost a snarl.

“Garland Moon.” Three months away. Betrayed, Felix found the strength to stand, and started toward the door.

“Felix, wait. _Please._ ” 

He stopped, and with all the courage he could muster, turned to his beloved. Tears tread glistening trails down Sylvain’s pleading face, walking down his chin and staining the collar of his uniform. Felix couldn’t recall a time where Sylvain had looked this lost.

“I had no choice.” Pitiful. Helpless.

Of course. 

Sylvain had been lamenting for ages on his father’s plan to secure an arranged marriage; it was the only surefire way of pairing him with a Major Crest-bearing woman to continue the Gautier legacy. However, Felix never gave this a second thought, as it all seemed so far away at the time of mention. He never thought his feelings would come this far, and to be matched at that.

Still, the news was far too much to handle for Felix, who once again made for the door. This time, however, he was grabbed by the back of his coat and whirled around, where he was met with all-too-familiar lips.

A moment to last for eternity, yet one which ends almost as soon as it begins. An endless plethora of emotions whirling, but simultaneously bringing the senses together as one. An enigma Felix did not want to forget, and did not want anyone but himself to experience. But he had to let go.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Felix drew back, but was met with Sylvain’s hands entwined at the small of his back. He found the courage to bring his eyes up, and challenged his lover’s gaze; eyes that were used to crinkling in a charismatic smile were instead shelving wells of tears. They were smudged away with a gentle caress of Felix’s hand.

In the seventeen years of his life, Felix had made many mistakes. However, with each stumble, Sylvain had always been there to catch him, to shoulder his weight, to embrace him, with all of his flaws. The time had come for Felix to reciprocate.

Felix took Sylvain’s hands into his own. 

“I love you, Sylvain,” he stated clearly, the first time he had ever done so out loud, “and there is nothing that could ever surmount that, nothing that could ever change the way I feel about you. Not marriage. Not distance. Not even death. No matter what happens, or what comes between us, I will support you at any cost. Even if it means I will never hold you in my arms ever again…”

The sound of Sylvain’s ceaseless sobs caused Felix to choke up.

“This, I promise to you.”

Silence, save for the gasps of air between the tears. The two spent the next moments savoring each other in a tight embrace, Felix’s head resting in the crook of Sylvain’s neck. 

Felix took a deep, shaky breath. “Now don’t make me say that again. Because I’m not gonna.”

Sylvain’s quiet laugh shook his chest, enveloping Felix in warmth. Hands crept up his back, and he felt soft lips plant a kiss on top of his head.

“Thank you. I promise as well. I will always love you.”

Time raced by, and the sun tucked itself away beneath the hills. Under the beams of the smiling moon, the two dozed off beneath the covers of Sylvain’s much-too-small bed. As the world continued to move on, Felix was completely satisfied staying right where he was.

-

“You traitor, you treacherous bastard!”

Sylvain’s shoulder collided with the ground, his armor sending a tinny clang echoing through the corridor. Groaning, he pushed himself up to his knees, only to be floored once more by a swift kick.

“Felix, please...let me explain.” 

“There is nothing to explain; you’ve turned your back on everything and everyone you have ever fought for,” Felix’s voice was harsh, yet quavering. 

Sylvain looked up from the floor, and noticed tears quickly cascading down Felix’s face, illuminated by torchlight. “How could you do this to the church? To your friends? To...me?”

It was the dead of night, and Sylvain had set out to rendezvous with the Black Eagle Strike Force: a group of students led by Edelgard, who had declared war on the church just days ago. Sylvain’s plan to quietly disappear would have succeeded, had Felix not decided to head to the training grounds for a late night practice session. It was in the hallway east of the reception hall where he encountered Sylvain, hoisting a sizable knapsack over his shoulder.

Presently, Sylvain attempted once more to rise to his feet, and was not stopped. He reached for Felix’s hand, but was met with recoil. Looking into Felix’s eyes, he no longer saw the flames of anger, but smoking coals of confusion, pleading.

“You can’t just...leave me.” Pitiful. Helpless.

“Felix…” Sylvain sighed deeply. 

“My Crest has ruined my life,” he blurted, “my Crest is what turned my father into a heartless, power-hungry bastard. My Crest is what tore my family apart, what cast my brother into shadows. My Crest is what forced me into a shallow shell of a life, where my only purpose is to produce Crest-bearing children. My Crest… is what keeps me from spending my life doing what I want more than anything in this world... loving you.”

The last words trailed into a whisper, as he hadn’t realized his words were escalating to a scream. He pursed his lips and turned away, while Felix stayed put, aghast. Sylvain was fuming, angry at the situation at hand, angry at Felix for not understanding, angry at everything the world has put him up to. 

He leaned on his arm against the wall, the cool stone permeating through his palm. As he tried to organize his thoughts, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist. A familiar, melancholy feeling, one he has pined for over the last few years. Ever since his marriage, Felix’s touch had been beyond reach.

Relishing the moment, Sylvain spun around and took Felix’s face in his hands, bringing it up to his own. He desperately tried to make up for all the time he had lost, time he could have spent kissing the man he’s loved all his life. Every sensation set his nerves aflame, from the slender fingers tangled in his hair, to the murmur of breath passing over his lips, to the nails digging feverishly into his back. How he wished this could be his present, his future.

But it wasn’t enough to keep the clock from ticking. As the prolonged kiss became a shower of sporadic pecks down Felix’s neck, a suggestion escaped Sylvain’s lips.

“Come with me, Felix.”

Sylvain felt Felix’s chest expand with a sharp inhale, then deflate in a long sigh. 

“My allegiance to our home remains.”

Sylvain pushed himself off of Felix, turning away to hide the tears that have once again welled up in his eyes. He had already known Felix’s answer, but hearing it from the man himself stung all the same.

Regaining his composure, Sylvain took what he believed to be his last look at Felix. Only one thought occupied his mind.

“I swear by the Goddess that we will meet again.”

Felix too began to tear up once more. He wiped his eyes hastily before resting them in Sylvain’s.

“I love you.” The three words were slow, but sure. 

“I love you,” Sylvain echoed, before stepping forward to pull Felix into a final embrace. 

Before he knew it, Sylvain was walking down the corridor, footsteps echoing forlornly. He could not afford to look back. 

Enveloped by the endless night sky, Sylvain Jose Gautier never set foot in Garreg Mach again.

-

Felix’s knees buckled, collapsing to the ground. Turning his cheek to the dirt, his eyes met Sylvain’s, amber and glistening with tears, matching his own. 

He dared to glance down, and found his hands still gripped around his sword, then followed the grain of the blade to its tip.

A clean path driven through his own stomach.

His vision began to blur, but he clutched onto reality by bringing his gaze back up to Sylvain’s. 

Withdrawing the deepest breath he could muster, Felix pulled his sword out of his abdomen, tossing it behind him. 

His hands, now free, found themselves cupping Sylvain’s face. He could not help but smile. Although he lamented that this moment would end in seconds, he couldn’t be more grateful that this same moment was his last.

In time, only one breath remained between Felix, Sylvain, and eternal rest. With their fading bodies in each other’s arms, their final breath is spent, enclosed in a final kiss.

A kiss pure enough to carry them off the battlefield, through the sky and beyond the stars.

-

Yes, I remember. Every single one.

  
  



End file.
